


Cats Don’t Dance

by PumpkinKip



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Call of Duty: Zombies - Fandom
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, I suppose, M/M, Nothing to do with the movie cats don’t dance, Oneshot, So I added some more to it, This was from some joke rp but it was fun!, Unless y’all really like it haha, althouh it is a great movie, teen to be safe and someone swears like once, very gently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinKip/pseuds/PumpkinKip
Summary: Nikolai Belinski was no form of dancer, because cats don’t dance and he felt he was quite like a feline himself. He wasn’t too sure why he’d even accepted the offer- maybe it was the promise of touch, affection, closeness- something he probably craved a little too much at that point.





	Cats Don’t Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta’d, formatting might be bad because I’m on mobile so apologies in advance!

The lights were dim, closeness near intoxicating for that moment as he felt his breath get caught in his throat. Cheeks flushed red as he looked to the hand offered to him, the words seeming to echo in his now empty head for the moment as he lingered.

_Would_ _you_ _like_ _a_ _dance?_

A simple question really- one that just needed a simple nod or shake of his head, but the Russian seemed to ponder on it for much longer that deemed necessary by most. Lost, startled sapphire eyes met calmer ocean ones briefly before his gaze was quickly averted to the shining floor below them, scruffy eyebrows furrowing in thought as his lips parted very slightly. It was overwhelming to the smaller man- clearly.

He eventually forced himself to look back up to his now partner with a slightly shaky nod, watching the man grin and grab his hand before tugging him forward. The hand in his own gave a gentle squeeze before one moved to his hip, and the Russian propped himself up on his toes as to try, _try_ and match the American’s height a little better.

Nikolai Belinski was no form of dancer, because cats don’t dance and he felt he was quite like a feline himself. He wasn’t too sure why he’d even accepted the offer- maybe it was the promise of touch, affection, _closeness_ \- something he probably craved a little too much at that point.

“What, cat got your tongue?” The man’s grin just widened, and he hunched himself forward slightly to fill some of the space between the two of them.

_That voice._

He found himself breathless- but wasn’t he always when it came to _him_? Moving his own hand to the American’s shoulder he just felt his face flush further, rolling his eyes slightly and giving his head a firm shake. It just lead the dammed yank to chuckle, the mischief clear in his bright eyes as he moved to gently press their foreheads together. Breathing distance- _kissing_ _distance_.

Nik froze, took a deep breath, and relaxed into the touch for the moment 

“Now come on. I suppose I’ll have to teach you, commie bastard.”

Nik laughed quietly, rolling his eyes with a small nod. “Sure..” He murmured, soon letting out a soft squeal as he felt Tank tug him forward. “Relax, I’ll lead. Just follow and don’t trip over me.” The taller of the two instructed which was met with a little nod before eyes widened again as he felt them move.

He took a deep breath, let himself relax, and followed as he was told. 

“There you go- see! You’re a natural!” Dempsey praised, leading the soviet to nudge him lightly.

It didn’t take them long to get into a little rhythm, soft eyes meeting and soon looking away in embarrassment. Well, Nik did anyways. The stupid Marine just rolled his eyes and continued to watch.

Nik hadn’t expected to enjoy himself that night- having been urged into going by his friends with the promise of free food and some drinks. If you told him.. 10, hell, even 2 minutes ago that he’d be dancing he’d roll his eyes and call you a fool.

_But here he was._

He took yet another breath, soon tilting his head as he heard that familiar voice her again. “I’m going to twirl you.” “What-“ He was cut off with a quiet cry of panic as he felt the hand move from his hip and the one being held move above his head, body soon getting dragged in a neat little circle before he was returned to his previous position. “A warning next time!” “I warned you-“ “A bigger one then, cyka!” He grumbled, shaking his head and tightening his grip on the American to steady himself. 

He only laughed in response, leading the Russian to roll his eyes and huff slightly. He was probably too drunk for this- and he wasn’t even _that_ drunk. “You’re lucky I even said yes, I didn’t want to reject you in front of all your friends.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “They’re your friends too, you know.” Tank shit back with a grin, pulling him backwards yet again as they continued in their rhythm.

Sure enough they were, and the Cossack found himself unable to respond to it. _Friends_. Maybe he just wasn’t used to that.

“I suppose so..” Was all he said, letting out a small sigh afterwards.

The American paused, looking to the other man with a tilt of his head before gently pulling them off to the side. “You alright, Nikki?” He asked quietly, glancing around for only a moment before his gaze returned to the Russian. His usual smug expression turned to one of caring, and Nik couldn’t help but smile slightly at that.

“I-“ He was cut off as he felt arms warp around him, Tank’s chin resting on his forehead as he was held tight in the embrace. “I’m fine...” He murmured, relaxing into the grip. 

“Just fine?” Tank raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at his partner for just a moment.

“Great, then.”


End file.
